


Begin Again

by AlwaysJohn



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Another reunion, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 07:48:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21095942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysJohn/pseuds/AlwaysJohn
Summary: Just as the title says.....





	Begin Again

Meet me. -MH

John stared at the phone, his heart angrily thumping in his chest. Could a heart experience anger?

John. -MH

No

We need to talk. -MH

Why

I’ll explain. Just meet me -MH

No

Pocketing his phone, he sighed, stared at his feet, shook his head.

“Why now? After all this time. Why can’t you just leave me alone?” His words whinged hollow in his own ears. There was no one to answer his question.

His phone pinged. He hesitated, retrieved it, read it.

It is important. Please.-MH

An annoyed huff escaped him before he responded, punching the keys with more force than was necessary. He purposely replied with no punctuation, knowing it would annoy the bastard.

I’m at the surgery it’ll take me a bit to get wherever you are where are you 

I am aware of your location. There is a car waiting. -MH

“Of course there is.”

oo0oo

John stared, oblivious to anything beyond the tinted window. He’d thought Mycroft Holmes had finally given up on him after nearly two years of declined invitations. He tried to remember when he’d last seen or heard from the man, but the recollection escaped him. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that, or if he even cared. Feeling numb had its advantages most of the time.

At their destination, John stepped out of the car to the awaiting British Government.

“Dr Watson.”

“I’m here. What do you want? You could have told me on my phone, because whatever you think I need to know, I’m not interested.”

_Unless you want to tell me that by some miracle Sherlock is alive.___

_ _“Walk with me.”_ _

_ _“Where are we?”_ _

_ _“Does it matter?”_ _

_ _John surveyed the dusky landscape of the early evening, noting the thickening wood as they walked._ _

_ _“No, I guess not.”_ _

_ _Falling into silence for some distance, John couldn’t dispel the feeling that he’d been kidnapped one last time by Mycroft Holmes. He refused to let it develop into a full-blown memory, but that tiny flicker of hope flared, if only for an instant._ _

_ _“Kidnapped again,” he whispered to himself._ _

_ _“I’m sorry?”_ _

_ _“Nothing.”_ _

_ _Deeper into the wood, the path divided left and right. Mycroft paused, turned toward John._ _

_ _“This is where I take my leave.”_ _

_ _John shook his head, thoroughly annoyed and angry. “Oh, please, let’s not be dramatic.”_ _

_ _“Follow the path to the right, John. There is something beyond that you need to see.”_ _

_ _“I don’t understand. Why are you doing this?”_ _

_ _“Follow the path to the right.”_ _

_ _John turned to retrace his steps to the car. “Whatever you’re up to, it won’t work. If you’re looking for my forgiveness, you’ll never have it. You blabbed about his whole life to that monster. I will spend the rest of my life hating you for destroying my best friend.”_ _

_ _Mycroft grasped his arm. When John looked up he thought he saw a flicker of something like regret in his eyes. “Just a best friend, John?”_ _

_ _“Don’t,” he ground out, pulling his arm away._ _

_ _“John. At the end of the path is something Sherlock wished for you to see. Don’t do it for me. Do it for him. And for yourself.”_ _

_ _After a moment of indecision, John nodded, his outburst forgotten and his anger dissipated. “All right,” he whispered, stepping away. _ _

_ _“John. Just go to the bridge.”_ _

_ _With that, Mycroft simply walked away. John watched until he turned at the bend in the path and disappeared from sight._ _

_ _It wasn’t a smooth pathway. Out of necessity John kept his eyes on the ground in front of him. Now that he was alone, it wouldn’t do to take a fall by letting his mind wander to what might be at the end. Along the way he stopped here and there to admire the riot of color in the sea of flowers, most of which he couldn’t name._ _

_ _When the path finally widened into an open area, an English garden awash with more wildflowers than he’d ever seen in one place came into view. A pond with ducks and a bench completed the landscape. Sherlock visited the ducks in Regent’s Park many times, and although he’d never spoken of the occasions to others, John knew his secret. The thought of it made him smile for the first time in an age, but the sorrow it evoked was heavy in his throat._ _

_ _John sat on the bench for a bit, until one by one the ducks turned toward the other side of the pond. Curious, he stood to continue to his destination. _ _

_ _Bathed in streaks of the evening’s last sunlight, the old wooden bridge seemed to materialise in front of his eyes. Was this what Sherlock had wanted him to see? John stopped at the rail in the centre of the bridge to stare into the water and the ducks that were feasting on bits of food floating nearby. _ _

_ _He felt a familiar presence before the reflection in the water appeared at his side. Startled, he stepped back, his eyes on the wood beneath his feet. When he stumbled a bit a hand circled his elbow. His heart struggled to remain in his chest. _ _

_ _“Hello, John.”_ _

_ _Although unable to look up for fear that it was some sort of magic trick of his own mind, he didn’t protest when tender fingers beneath his chin raised his head. One look, and the tears held in check for so long filled his eyes and overflowed. The other-worldly eyes he’d thought gone forever looked back at him. Pressing his face into the center of Sherlock’s chest John wrapped his arms around him._ _

_ _“I missed you so much,” John croaked out against Sherlock’s thoroughly tear-dampened shirt._ _

_ _Sherlock returned his embrace, tucking John’s fair head beneath his chin, and cradling his head with his palm._ _

_ _“I missed you more than I ever thought possible.”_ _

_ _“Sherlock.” _ _

_ _“I am sorry, John. I didn’t realise-”_ _

_ _“You came back,” John told him in a voice that was not at all steady and there might have been a whimper or two hanging on those three words. And an errant hiccough. “I don’t care about why or how. You came back.”_ _

_ _When Sherlock framed his face with his long, elegant fingers, John trembled at his touch. _ _

_ _“John, I-”_ _

_ _“Shut up, Sherlock.”_ _

_ _“Shutting up, John,” Sherlock said in his deep baritone as he swooped down to claim John’s mouth._ _

_ _When they parted, out of breath and wobbly, their foreheads resting against each other, and their tears still fresh, Sherlock was the first to speak._ _

_ _“John, can we begin again?”_ _

_ _“Friends, colleagues or..”_ _

_ _“Perhaps we could skip to the or?”_ _

_ _“The or?”_ _

_ _“I want everything, with you, John.”_ _

_ _“Everything? For always?”_ _

_ _“Yes. For always.”_ _

**Author's Note:**

> A while ago I said I probably had written my last reunion story. I also said I never say never. So here is one more. I have absolutely no control over what my brain tells me about these two boys/men. Sigh...


End file.
